


More

by hypnoshatesme



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: ...idk what this ended up being, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda?, M/M, Self-Worth Issues, this is a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:46:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23121961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypnoshatesme/pseuds/hypnoshatesme
Summary: A conversation about hair escalates.
Relationships: Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley
Comments: 10
Kudos: 99





	More

Gerry was glaring when Michael came back into the bedroom. Michael followed his eyes, but couldn’t find anything offending on his ceiling. 

“Gerry?”, he said, tentatively, laying down next to the other man to see if the new perspective would reveal that which what was upsetting him, “What...are you looking at?”

Gerry turned around to face him, pointing at a strand of blond hair falling into his eye. Michael took a moment to see it, despite it standing out against the black surrounding it.

“Have to dye it again soon…”, Gerry grumbled.

Michael chuckled, brushing the stray strands of hair out of Gerry’s face, “I’ll help you.”, Gerry sighed, but still looked annoyed, “The way you always react to needing a dye job sometimes makes me wonder why you even bother.”, Michael added, amused, while petting Gerry’s hair.

“You’re one to talk. I don’t spend my mornings hissing in pain because of my hair.”, Gerry mumbled, a grin pulling on his lips, one hand coming up to play with one of Michael’s curls.

Now Gerry grinned about it, but the first morning he had woken up to muffled flinching noises from the bathroom his whole body had automatically gone into defence mode. He had been ready to attack whatever it was that was drawing those pained noises from his boyfriend and was still fairly sure that the only reason he didn't go for it as soon as the bathroom door started to open at Gerry's request - Michael's voice had sounded fine, still a bit thick from sleep and maybe slightly confused, but Gerry had learned early not to trust things like that in his line of work - was that he hadn't quite shaken off sleep completely, his movements still slower than they had any right to be.

Michael had looked at him in surprise, looking perfectly fine with his damp hair hanging loosely around his face, an uncertain, lopsided smile on his face. No traces of pain or wounds or anything. It was Gerry’s turn to look surprised. 

It had been Michael who broke the unreasonably long silence with a sheepish, "Are you okay?"

And Gerry blinked at him, "I wasn't the one hissing in pain. What happened?"

"Oh…", Michael's cheeks reddened, "I'm just...having some trouble untangling my hair."

"Oh.", was Gerry’s eloquent answer. He had felt his own cheeks heat up. 

Michael smiled, shy but fond, "I'll be ready in a bit, okay?"

Gerry nodded dumbly, stepping away from the bathroom door. 

It took him a couple more times of waking up to Michael’s soft hisses before his body had accepted that there was no danger. For once, things were fine. 

“I don’t actually comb my hair every morning.”, Michael chuckled now, pressing a kiss to Gerry’s forehead. 

“I’d probably worry if you did.”, Gerry twirled a blond ringlet curl around his finger, watching it spring back to its initial shape as soon as he released it. “Why do you keep it so long? It’s probably not very practical…”, Gerry asked, curiosity getting the better of him. Ever since it became clear that combing it involved a whole lot of pained hissing every single time Gerry had been wondering.

“Did you grow out your hair out of practicality?”, Michael grinned, running his long fingers through Gerry’s hair, watching the strands slide through them.

Gerry snorted. Michael had come a long way in being comfortable with saying what he thought, and Gerry greatly enjoyed his newfound confidence, “No. Aesthetic purposes only.”

“Well, in a sense I guess it’s the same for me.”, Michael answered, “And actually, I do find it easier to just put my hair up than have short hair grow out and kept falling into my vision…”, Michael added, shrugging. He seemed to think for a moment before picking up again, tentatively, “Also…”, a light flush spread on his face, “Ah, nevermind.”, he mumbled quickly, looking back at the ceiling.

Gerry raised an eyebrow, “Hm?”

“Well…”, Michael sighed, cursing himself for even suggesting there was more. He covered his eyes with his arm, blocking out Gerry, before mumbling, ”A more vain reason is...that it’s the only thing I ever get compliments on.” His voice was barely a whisper by the end, a hollow hope that Gerry might not hear him that way as he said it quickly. His face was burning now and he was well aware that his arm wasn’t actually covering the flush completely. 

He hadn't intended to say it. Had never admitted it to anyone, barely had come to begrudgingly accept it himself. It was silly and shallow. Ridiculous. Just one of the many things that made him feel stupid. And now he'd told Gerry of all people. Gerry who had inexplicably stayed after their first date. Gerry who kept staying, despite Michael having nothing to offer. Gerry who after so much time still didn't seem to see just what pathetic excuse for a person Michael was. And now Michael made it blatantly obvious, made his own nightmares come true.

Gerry wasn’t saying anything and Michael held his breath, waiting for the inevitable. He wondered which nightmare it would be. Laughter? Yelling? Maybe Gerry would just get up and leave without another word. Michael had come to the conclusion that option was the worst of them a long time ago. With his luck that meant that that was exactly what would happen. Why did Michael even start talking? That never went well. He should have kept his mouth shut.

Michael was too caught up in preparing himself mentally for the blow that would come to notice that he was shaking, hands clenched into tight fists. 

Gerry, however, noticed and he had spend enough time with Michael to know to keep his voice carefully down when he spoke, casual. If Michael detected the worry Gerry was feeling seeing him like this he would shut down, furiously apologise, assure him he was fine and go to sleep on the couch as to not disturb Gerry further. The first time that had happened they had been in Gerry's bed, but Gerry soon enough learned that Michael would also kick himself out of his own bed if he thought he was causing Gerry any kind of discomfort.

Gerry hoped his tone sounded calming when he finally found his voice, “Hm...I guess I can see it. It is beautiful.”, Gerry ran his fingers through Michael’s hair, admiring it. “But”, his hand came to rest on the shaking arm flung over Michael’s eyes, "So are your eyes", he murmured, gently pulling it away to look into Michael's eyes. They were glistening with unshed tears.

As Michael blinked, one tear did escape, gently rolling down his cheek. He barely had time to panic about it before Gerry brought his hand to Michael's face to brush it away gently. Nothing was going like Michael had imagined and his mind was racing to make sense of the situation. Gerry's hand made its way from Michaels cheek to his jaw, slowly, lovingly.

"Your skin...", his voice went a little deeper as his fingers came to trace Michaels lips, "Your lips...", Michael’s face flushed as he hastily turned his face away, partly in a vain attempt to hide his embarrassment, partly to escape Gerry’s intense gaze. 

Michael chuckled awkwardly, making a nervous waving motion while mumbling, "Flatterer."

It hadn’t take a long time for Gerry to notice how Michael had the habit of deflecting any compliment he was given. In fact, he waved away all positive feedback he got, even when it was just a simple thank you for bringing Gerry tea. “Don’t mention it.”, he’d say, waving the comment away, looking thoroughly embarrassed. 

Usually, Gerry did. He wasn’t the best at expressing himself and had thought that maybe it was his tone or choice of words that made Michael so uncomfortable. After weeks of watching him have the same reaction with other people, too, Gerry had decided the problem lay deeper. Usually, Gerry didn't push it. But with Michael in a state like this he couldn't let it go so easily. He also didn't want to. It never felt quite right to not insist before and Gerry was reaching his limit of swallowing his honest reaction in an attempt to not make things worse.

Gerry pressed his lips to the space right underneath Michael's now exposed ear, mumbling "I know I'm not the best with words.", Michael shivered at the sensation, moving his head back, undoubtedly ready to debate Gerry on that fact. Because Gerry was never the one at fault, couldn't possibly do anything wrong. Michael always found the fault in himself.

Gerry didn't give him time for that now. He sat up in one swift motion, straddling Michael's hips. He looked down into Michael’s eyes, who was still processing the change, looking up at Gerry in surprise. Gerry smiled.

"I can show you, though. If you want.", he said, voice low. A promise.

His smile turned into more of a grin and one of his hands traced Michaels arm, from shoulder to hand. Michael took it all in, the mischievous glint in Gerry's eyes as the last light of the setting sun fell through the cracks in the blinds. He had never understood how he had caught the attention of those eyes in the first place, certainly didn't understand how there was still fondness in them as they looked at him now. 

Michael licked his lips nervously, not daring to look away. With a certain satisfaction, he saw Gerry's eyes widen, flush deepening. The fact that it was only a matter of time before Gerry left didn't mean Michael couldn't try to enjoy the company while it lasted, right?

"Try me…", Michael ended up saying in that weird tone of his, one that started confident, nearly smug, but became shy and embarrassed by the end. 

Gerry always wondered if one day he would keep the confidence until the end. The idea was exciting, but right now he had other things to focus on. Like Michael's tongue as it darted out to lick his lips again. Michael was still holding Gerry's gaze and there was something in those eyes telling Gerry that this time he did it on purpose, not as a nervous tick.

Gerry grinned as that as he leaned forward to capture Michael's lips in a kiss. Gerry laced their fingers together, thumb caressing the back of Michaels hand. Soft. He loved how soft the other man was. 

His other hand was itching to bury in those thick locks, something of a habit established over months of doing precisely that when kissing Michael. Instead Gerry traced Michael's jaw, tilting his head back when he reached his chin to deepen the kiss. Michael hummed contentedly, pulling him closer after wrapping his free arm around Gerry's neck.

Gerry's fingers followed the line of Michael's throat and Michael's breath hitched, a small sound escaping his throat into the kiss. Gerry swallowed it greedily, enjoying the feeling of Michael leaning into his touch as Gerry's hand wandered over his collarbone and down his chest. 

Gerry had always loved how responsive Michael was. Not just to touch, but to the smallest gestures, too. His whole face lit up when Gerry stopped by the institute just to see him, sometimes bringing lunch because he knew Michael forgot to eat sometimes during work. It had been a bit of a joke the first time, a comment on Michael always fussing about whether Gerry had eaten enough and well, whether he was getting enough sleep, whether he was taking breaks to relax, whether he was taking care. But the expression Michael gave when he saw Gerry that day, full of surprise and gratitude and love had taken Gerry’s breath away and he had known, then and there, that he'd want to make that expression appear again and again. 

Michael had apologised after Gerry froze that day, stunned by that beautiful, open smile; had apologised many other times for reacting too much, for being annoying or clingy. In such instances, Gerry kissed him, because he didn't know how to tell Michael that he loved those reactions, couldn't find the words to express the overwhelming warmth they filled him with. There were no words, probably, to accurately describe it in a way that would make michael understand. 

It was a frustrating thing to realise because Gerry wanted him to know, to understand that Gerry loved all those things that embarrassed him or that he thought were too much. Or not enough. Michael always felt like he was wrong, in one way or another, not worthy of Gerry’s attention or affection. He was wrong, of course, but Gerry hadn’t yet figured out how to make him understand that.

This was as good as a place to start as anywhere else. There was certainly more to Michael Shelly than hair and Gerry would try to make him see at least that, for now.. He would appreciate every inch of Michael's body until latter couldn't deny it. He would find ways to make him accept that everything he did and was was enough.


End file.
